Home
by rememberthenames
Summary: After seven years of being assumed missing, Buttercup returns to the home she ran away from.
1. Sister

**Home**

Buttercup arrives in a taxi-cab. Her choppy raven head of hair has been shaven to a buzz-cut, and her strong tan arms are inked with busty broads with bedroom eyes, a roaring tiger and the names of her sisters scrawled in her signature chicken scratch across her inner wrists. She's decked out in a biker girl ensemble; leather body suit and matching boots a testament of her badassery. She continues to appraise her childhood home - unchanged, except by the hands of time that manage to chip the paint of the red door and flood her with sweet and sour memories. The smash of glass and splurge of jelly on tarmac jolt her back to the present. She twirls around with her fists clenched and raised, ready for battle.

Bubbles is crying. Her long blonde curls are swept in a loose, lefthand side-ponytail, the tips kissing her rosy cheek like desperate lovers. Her dress is just as short and sweet as her herself; a pastel pink and strapless.

Buttercup seems to be awestruck, and she struggles to even stutter: "My...th-the necklace..."

Bubbles drops the other grocery bag she'd had been stretching with her superhuman strength she manages to restrain and runs into her found sister's open arms. Buttercup extinctively wraps her tensed arms around her sister and laxes, in a warm hug.

"You've finally come back!"


	2. Father

Buttercup is tensed in preparation for the amalgamation of 6 years worth of father-and-daughter talks she predicts to receive from her father figure as Bubbles enthuses about her daily life and favorite activities as she cooks her and the sleeping Professor a stack of 'happy monkey pancakes' each.' She's listening but not actively, as she can't manage to pry her brain off the topic of their creator and her other sister whom Bubbles seemed to be mysteriously but purposefully avoiding to mention.

"Good morning."

The Professor saunters into his kitchen with a cane, his signature labcoat folded and draping off his broad right shoulder. He's dressed in a turtleneck and knee-length khakis, with his white hair messy without the monster mucus he used to use for gel.

"What's for breakfast?" he asks, but before she can offer an response, he takes a sniff of the air and figures out for himself with a childish pout. "Pancakes again?"

Bubbles offers a meek smile to Buttercup as she moves to assist the aged Professor in seating himself on the stool beside her. He still does not seem to acknowledge her presence, and so with a gulp and the deepest breathe, Bubbles announces:

"We got a visitor, daddy!"

She swivels him around to face the spice to his sugar and everything nice, interrupting the thoughtful hum he was revving up deep in his throat as a mediocre reaponse. When he is confronted with the image of his Buttercup, with her shaved head and tattooes and piercings and body suit of leather, he just sits and coughs and wheezes and stares in a very long five minutes.

"Oh," he says suddenly, and Buttercup's heartbeat seems to increase in both speed and intensity from that of a jogging mom to that of a long distance runner on his final lap. A look of faint recognition crinkles the corners of his cloudy black pea eyes, and when he finally smiles that familiar smile she can swear her heart just stops. "Butch, how are you doing, my good man?"


	3. Lover

Buttercup pulls Blossom's pink shawl from her sun-kissed shoulders and rips her white tanktop into shreds as she pushes her into the shadows of a dark alleyway; casted by the surrounding apartment complexes at the end of Maine street in the busy city of Townsville as the sun sets. Before Buttercup can unhook her bra and expose her tender breasts and cherries for hardened nipples, Blossom catches her face in her stumps and distracts her wandering green eyes with a kiss.

"Not so fast there, tiger."

Their breathes are short and constant, but they manage to share a giggle and chuckle somewhere inbetween. Their voices are soft and sweet in all their exchanges.

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

Her pink eyes are like the sky when dawn breaks or the sun sets, a salmon with specks of white like splattered paint, as the clouds or stars; Buttercup is enthralled - until she flutters her clockwork eyelashes, scraping the apples of her flushed cheeks and looks away.

"Bloss--"

"We can't keep doing this."

Buttercup awakes in a cold sweat.


	4. Blue and Green and Pink

"I heard you talking last night."

Buttercup rests the Professor's "No. 1 Dad" black coffee cup on a smiley face coaster provided by Bubbles on the kitchen's white marble island. She's sat, strong legs spread wide apart in blue jean shorts and a black sports bra beside her sister, with a plate of cooked food for breakfast infront of her. Her favorite, liver with onions.

"That's Professor's?"

"Stop ignoring my questions. It's getting a bit annoying after three days."

Bubbles rose petals for lips are stuck in a pout as she whisks a yellow batter in a blue bowl infront of the old stove. Buttercup smiles.

"You're cute."

There's an awkward silence interrupted by the sizzling of vegetable oil, the bubble and spit of batter on a hot pan, and the flip and flop of cooking pancakes as she continues to make breakfast.. Not a word is exchanged until Bubbles serves her her customary stack of 'super happy monkey pancakes' and is forced into engaging in direct eye contact.

Blue into green, green into blue.

"Blossom's coming over today."


	5. Her

Blossom rolls into the driveway of her childhood home on fancy red wheels. She sits in the front black leather seat of her brand new Ferrari, infront of the locked garage, with her prosthetic digits coiled around the wheel and face flushed. Her once flowing orange hair is chopped into a neat bob and a chesnut brown. She sits and stares at the red door as memories of forbidden love and family and _green_ flood her mind.


End file.
